


Miracle Boy

by Orange



Category: Homestuck
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-02
Updated: 2012-03-02
Packaged: 2017-11-01 00:28:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,691
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/349988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Orange/pseuds/Orange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Equius has a lot to be ashamed about, but especially this,  and no one can ever find out-- so naturally, someone does.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on Plus4Chan's /coq/ board.

If there was ever any moment, at any time, across all of time and space, Equius desperately hoped that this one above all others would be safe from prying eyes. 

But that's what he said each time he dressed up like this. Very infrequently did he indulge in his strange desire to put on... fancy clothing, but today he was feeling especially carefree, and decided he would chance it. 

Fancy wasn't really the word, though. He admitted that much to himself. These clothes weren't meant for masculine trolls; clothes like these were the kind that Kanaya was prone to wear, not Karkat or Sollux. Or him, really. Whenever he was working he usually just wore his sleeveless grubtank and whatever pants were around. But a while back, when he had actually met aC-- when he had met Nepeta-- that changed. 

Nepeta was always something of a tomboy. She liked to bundle up in the heaviest clothing she could find, whereas cT liked to dress light, so he could more easily maneuver when he was tinkering with his automatons. So he had given her his long jacket; it was the same color as her trollian chat text, and she had appreciated that fact. He was just glad that she thought he had come up with that himself. 

And in return, she had given Equius one of her dresses. It didn't have a lot of buttons and zippers, like Kanaya’s clothes. It had laces along the side, and it was supposed to go down past her knees. She said she never wore it, though; it was too girly and not enough protection from dragons, and that she had only ever played with the laces when she was bored. He had blushed slightly upon receiving it, not exactly knowing what he was going to do with it or where he was going to hide it-- if he ended up keeping it at all. 

But Nepeta, briefly, had told him that it would probably look pretty on him. After all, she had said, his hair was straight and his smile was nice and his face was pretty. 

And he had asked in return, without meaning to, if she meant it. She simply giggled at the time, and he hesitantly took that as a yes, since Nepeta wasn't the type to poke fun out of spite. 

In the time since that day, he had often looked at the dress: he had hidden it in the back of his closet at first, buried under so many failed creations. That way he wouldn't be as tempted to look at it, and maybe he would just forget about it completely. But gradually he would take it out more and more, and eventually he put it in his bottom dresser drawer, this time only hidden by his pajamas and socks. 

So of course it wasn't long after that before he started looking at the dress with curiosity, wondering how it would look on his lithe frame. And less time still before he put it on, fed up with his baseless hesitance. 

And he had discovered that it did indeed look good on him, and with his hair freshly clean from his daily oil-cleansing ritual, he really did look just like... a girl. A real girl, not a boy stealing girl's clothes and trying them on out of silliness and incomprehension. 

Slowly, he started doing this more often. He would never fiddle with his robots while he wore it; frequently he would simply pass the time doing menial chores or simply pacing, wondering if he even walked like a girl-- or, for that matter, if he had ever walked like a boy in the first place. It was somehow... relaxing. A weird relief. He'd felt like it had always been this way. 

But the longer it went on, the more he became terrified that someone was going to take it away from him. Karkat was always so violent sounding, and Sollux, while mostly calm and collected, occasionally lashed out whenever people didn't pay attention to his deeds, or if you pried at his personal life-- and generally he got angry for a lot of reasons. So he didn't talk to him much. 

Still, he was afraid that someone would tell him what he was doing was wrong, or that he needed to stop because otherwise people would think he was weird, too weird to even be around. 

So, in that fateful moment, it was an inevitable conclusion that chance and luck would act against him. He noticed too late, pacing his room with light steps, that he had been messaged several times on Trollian. Just as he was reading over the messages, eyes frantic, his door flew open. 

And in fell the clown, the "Miracle" troll, Gamzee Makara.


	2. Chapter 2

"No no no no. This is not happening this will NOT happen. No one is ever going to know about-- about this. Just what oh jegus why no." 

Breaking through his thoughts, Equius gets the right idea in his head and runs to hide behind his computer desk, pulling his screen to the side, hoping to get a better look at who this intruder might be. And on the screen was the answer he was looking for: 

TC: Aw yEaH WhAt iS AlL Up aBoUt gOiNg oN OvEr tHeRe?  
TC: Yo, I JuSt wAnTeD To bE AsKiN YoU If i cOuLd cOmE AlL Up aRoUnD ThErE  
TC: AnD ShOw yOu mY SwEeT As tItS UnIcYcLe tRiCkS  
TC: BeEn wOrKiN On tHeSe mOtHeRfUcKeRs fOr aLl uP In a wEeK BrO  
TC: YoU ThErE My wIcKeD RoBoT-MaKiN BrO  
TC: NaH YoU'Re pRoBaBlY AlL AbOuT MaKiN SoMe wIcKeD MoThErFuCkIn rObOt mIrAcLe rIgHt nOw  
TC: IlL CoMe oN AlL Up iN AbOuT YoUr pLaCe aNd sHoW OfF My rIdIcUlOuS BiTcHtItS SkIlLs 

terminallyCapricious [TC] has ceased trolling centaursTesticle [CT] 

Oh shit. Then that means-- 

"Yo my bro-canic! Where are you all up and at? I gotta be about showin' you these motherfuckin' unicycle tricks--" 

At the sound of Gamzee's forever-and-always absent and carefree sounding voice, Equius finally felt some boldness well up in his chest, and he shot up without further warning, hoping that his shouting would scare Gamzee off before he even got a good look at him. But just as he took a breath to yell at Gamzee, to tell him to get right the fuck out, Gamzee coolly and carelessly pre-empted his tantrum. 

"W-whoa bro, when did you get all up the power to flip-flop your gender shit into female mode?" 

Equius's voice died in his throat with a kind of staccato hitch, his breath caught in his chest. The moment seemed to last for ages; him with his gaping, surprised expression, and Gamzee with an air of gears clicking together, answers falling into place, and Equius was on the very brink of completely going off his shit, until-- 

"Aw shit, my motherfuckin' grub-buddy, that's what I all up and forgot. My bitchin' god damn unicycle. That thing is all about disappearin' out and from up under my shit, y'know? Always find that motherfucker though. S'just another one of those miracles I'm all thankful as tits for." 

"You, uh," Equius began, and suddenly he didn't really know what he was going to say. Here Gamzee was, obviously looking at him (or possibly somewhere far past him) and yet completely unperturbed; not angry or disgusted or even that confused. "I guess you'll have to go get it then?" 

"Nah, I can just get my unicyclin' up on some other fuckin' time, y'know? You gotta be all about tellin' me how you got to look all pretty as a chick, my pupa-pal." 

Again Equius was thankful that it was at the very least just Gamzee he had to deal with, and Gamzee wasn't very much affected by what his friends thought of his views. Equius thought he was maybe only affected by sopor slime and how his friends were, if by anything. So he tried to keep the dark grey color out of his face as he drew up a calming breath, and addressed the comment at face-value. 

"You don't... care that I'm dressed like a girl?" 

Gamzee took a single step back, his hands flying up to his horns in the slightly familiar motion of clutching one's head. "Holy motherfuckin' tits my bro! You're only dressed like a chick? I thought you had all up and transformed and shit! You all up in makin' crazy fuckin' miracle machines, never know what they are about doin'." He smiled sincerely and took a few steps forward, reminding Equius suddenly that he was a whole foot taller than he was, even without the horn difference. The look on his face was more akin to radiant curiosity than a depricating glare. "So you just all up and wear chick clothes, and then be about workin' on your motherfuckin' miracle bots all dudely and whatnot?" 

Equius looked up at him, having problems getting his words past a newly formed lump in his throat as he broke out of his worrying line of thought and considered the question. And then, after a moment: "...yes. Sometimes. Not too often. I don't..." 

Gamzee looked at him expectantly, likely wondering if he would be finishing his sentence or not. And, if he didn't finish the sentence, maybe he would marvel at how miraculous it is that people can just change their minds mid-sentence. But if Gamzee kept pressing the matter of his clothing instead, he probably would lose all his nerve... 

"I don't think it's right. What I'm doing. Me dressing up like a girl," he said when Gamzee's look told him he couldn't tell if he was talking about dresses or robots. "The others would probably think it's disgusting." 

Gamzee's smile slowly turned upside-down, once again creating that strange juxtaposition between his real lips and his painted face. "Shit, my monkey-wrench-wieldin' motherfucker, y'know it don't matter what your friends are thinkin' all up in their skullplates." His clown-faced friend put his hands on his shoulders, kneeling down slightly to meet Equius's eyes. "You just gotta be about bein' all comfortable in that shit between your ears. If it's any kind of fuckin' cereal box consolation-prize, I think you're all up in lookin' fine as tits." 

Equius was still trying to strain all the compliments out of Gamzee's mess of a speech when he felt himself step forward into his friend's arms, wrapping his own around him. He was surprising himself, but not entirely much: Gamzee was being nice to him, but Gamzee was nice to everyone. But Equius was the kind of troll who didn't get a large amount of compliments, and never about things like... this. No one was ever supposed to see him in these clothes, and Gamzee had-- and nothing had gone wrong when he did. In fact, Gamzee liked him this way. The clown thought he was amazing. He tried to remind himself that Gamzee thought everything was amazing, but his mind was in other places. 

Gamzee, to his credit, simply stood there, arms draped over Equius's shoulders like this was as normal as any other day, and the clown didn't think much about why Equius was hugging him. It was what it was. 

Equius had had other thoughts too, he remembered as those very notions came back to him unbidden. He had never really kissed anyone, except to return Nepeta's cheek-kisses whenever he would have to leave, and he was sure those didn't count. And when Equius was dressed like a girl he always felt a lot more confident; scared of course that someone would find him out and tell him off or worse-- yes, those things too. But more confident, more comfortable in his own skin. 

So, knowing that Gamzee wouldn't give much resistance right up until the last moment if he was going to give any at all, Equius pulled back and stood up on his toes, planting his lips ineptly but with impulsive emotion upon his taller friend's own. 

And Gamzee Makara, to his credit, did not pull away.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic was written JUST as Equius was being introduced, which should give a frame of reference for how old this is. As such, I didn't know about his STRONG tendencies until writing this chapter-- and in fact, I had to use a filler name in the mean time, since I didn't even know that much! So yeah.

Equius didn't want it to stop there, however-- still, it wasn't long before he was apologizing too many times for comfort. 

He had been keeping his movements, or at least the unnecessary ones, to a minimum ever since they started at this extremely cautious bit of intimacy-- he didn't want to accidentally hurt Gamzee. His normal penchant for violence, which he would admit he had felt flare up dangerously high when Gamzee first burst in (though his self-consciousness about the dress he was wearing won out, thankfully) had settled down considerably. 

When the clown-faced boy had returned his affections after the horribly slow moments that followed the initial kiss, he felt a shiver shoot up his back that, judging by the wince on his friend's face, probably hurt his ribs something smart. And when Gamzee still didn't back away, he honestly tried to avoid hurting him further: he instead gripped the back of Gamzee's shirt as light as he possibly could, resisting so hard the urge to clamp down on the soft fabric. 

And still, as Gamzee's hands roamed his sides, the clown boy chuckling softly as he tried to maneuver to kiss Equius's neck, he couldn't stop himself from ripping the shirt almost entirely off of his body. Gamzee pulled back almost too quickly, raising Equius's hackles once again. 

Then the other boy simply smiled at him in his dopey, well meaning way and laughed. "Shit bro-chinery, it's all up in bein' fine as fuck, y'know? I got shirts out the motherfuckin' wazoo, always bein' about covered in sopor slime after all and shit." 

Even Equius was calmed by the clown-faced boy's demeanor; his idle reassurances. He supposed if it wasn't going to upset Gamzee, then he shouldn't be getting upset himself about something he did in the first place. "It's really not a p-problem?" 

"Psh, naw." Gamzee gave a strange grin (Equius realized briefly and bemusedly that it was the kind of grin that implied seduction) and picked him up by his hips. Equius's gut felt horribly uneasy in the very few moments he was off of his feet, but the clown simply set him down on his computer desk. 

"I mean, it's like... we both like gettin' all up in bein' dirty, y'know?" 

And he had a point, Equius supposed, but he didn't really have a whole lot of time to devote thought to thinking about the surprising amount of things the two of them had in common, because Gamzee was getting down on his knees now and suddenly thought was a luxury. 

Equius knew enough about... "fine art", however, to know what Gamzee was intending to do to him, and though it colored his cheeks a near-pitch color he had enough good sense to push himself back further on the desk and clamp his legs to either side of the reinforced steel frame. 

Unsurprisingly, it dented heavily inward, and though nothing had happened to his legs Gamzee's eyes still widened. "Good," Equius thought. "I don't want him to think that this is going to be all that safe." 

"Damn, you're all wicked strong as shit for bein' a chick." Gamzee just laughed at the dressed up boy when his expression turned to that of a petulant little kid, at once trying to take the compliment in stride and at the same time somewhat insulted at the implications aboout his gender. 

He decided not to retaliate (even with words) and instead directed his increasing apprehension on his computer desk, which predictably gave under his fingers, crumpling up as easily as foil. He was trying not to be nervous about the situation but fuck clown-boy was pushing his dress up and what if he changed his mind when he saw-- 

"Aw it's on motherfucker, look at these bitchin' boxers you got goin' on these hips, Mr. Fix it." The voice came out surprisingly low, opening and closing with a laugh but with an enticing tone inbetween. Coming from anyone else it would sound like a mean-spirited jab but from Gamzee it was ridiculously charming; like he was trying to seduce his gog-damn wrench-print boxers. 

The very thought had Equius laughing, and he couldn't stop: it began as a soft sort of shaking chuckle and soon his guts were aching with the motion. In the background he could hear Gamzee laughing, lower than his own voice but still sincere somehow. But then, Equius didn't know what it was the clown boy was laughing at, after all. 

All the while Equius was laughing Gamzee was deftly removing the boxers, inch by inch in time with the jerking motions the laughter brought on. And suddenly Gamzee's laughter disappeared and Equius's died in his chest, because Gamzee had just taken Equius's cock down his throat, and after that there was a distinct lack of conversation. 

But a steady stream of names and expletives, to be sure. "Oh FUCK you clown-faced bastard, oh god," and Gamzee just laughed against his shaft, causing vibrations Equius almost couldn't take. The desk began to quiver, and Equius thought loudly inside his head how much shit he would beat out of it if it broke right now. He hoped that would be enough, because he couldn't think about anything else after that except for Gamzee's painted lips around HIM and how much he wanted to grab him by the horns or the hair or ANY kind of touch right now. 

So instead he took advantage of the fact that he lived in such a remote location, and let out the a bewildering moan-- he had never had cause to make a noise like that before, and now when it finally flew from between his lips it was caught between masculine and feminine, making no distinction nor attempt to be one or the other. It was both, and suddenly Gamzee had a dazed look on his face that looked a lot more like arousal than confusion. 

After the first outburst Equius tried to limit himself to just whimpers and throaty noises of approval; Gamzee's weirdly long tongue was lapping at the bottom of his shaft, catching one of his balls every now and then, and it was one of those times that Equius decided he would rather cry out than twitch and break Gamzee's jaw. 

All whimpers and groans and moans now that seemed to stretch on forever, but Equius didn't care; it seemed like forever that Gamzee was licking at the tip of the head, swirling his tongue about it, taking it down sometimes deep and sometimes shallow and fast and oh sweet FUCK. 

Then, with a very gentle nip and chuckle against the most sensitive of skin, Gamzee's lips left him and Equius had to damn himself then for making such a pitiful and pleading noise; he was supposed to be strong. "But maybe, this time," he thought distantly, "I don't really have to be..." 

But his pleading was rewarded, this time with a hand wrapped carefully around his cock, and all at once Equius's vision was clouded with a ludicrous image: His member, four lithe fingers wrapped around it and then, almost nonsensically, a wild tangled mess of hair perforated only by the towering horns jutting from the black mess, and the beginnings of a painted face below and out of sight. 

For that brief moment, with a clown-faced boy readying himself to jerk off he, a seemingly crossdressing tomboy, he didn't fully believe that any of this was happening, and that somewhere along the line he had fallen into some kind of coma. 

Then there was a long, wriggling tongue pressing against a place even more sensitive than his member, beneath cock and all, and he wondered why he ever attempted thought at all. 

This time the sound that came from him was definitely feminine, a high-pitched gasp of complete and utter surprise, and Equius had to clench his hands so terribly hard to keep from pushing his head away, pulling his head in. 

He had to stop himself from doing both in rapid succession. 

Gamzee's hand was moving up and down his shaft quickly-- softly, perhaps, but with sincere eagerness. It was driving Equius insane, because Gamzee's tongue hadn't stopped probing at him, hadn't quit licking under his sac, hadn't ceased any of the things he had began and FUCK did Equius love him for it. 

Equius felt himself become unbearably warm, and something told him that this was it, he was about to explode for better or worse and right now he felt like that would be the best choice so he made no move to stop it. Now even the noises he was making couldn't stop his legs from quaking against the desk, and-- like a god damn miracle-- Gamzee could seemingly tell. The clown-faced boy once again set his attention on Equius's cock, settling his fingers at the base as his mouth returned to doing it's incomprehensible work on his member. 

Gamzee dipped his head down lower, fingers pulling back one by one until there was nothing left to prevent him from taking it all the way down to the base--and then, as the clown boy looked up at him and chuckled deeply in his throat, Equius met his eyes, and that was all it took. He lost it. His body convulsed and it was all the desk could do to not break because it sure as hell didn't want to become scrap. 

Gamzee somehow managed to stay in one place, his head completely still save for the slight bobbing motion that accompanied everything he did, as Equius's exhausted moans filled the room. The noise stretched out across the room, filling every space and most certainly Gamzee's ears, as a smile formed on his face in an absurd expression, pleased and amused and-- in the middle of it all, he hadn't taken his mouth off of his member the entire time. 

Finally, when the last whimper died in his throat, Gamzee swallowed everything he had taken from him. 

And of course there was that damn smile.


End file.
